The Art Of Grieving
by Ajluv
Summary: As peculiar children they usually don't deal with death, yet here they are, crowded around the unmoving body of Jacob Portman. Character Death. *Oneshot


Its true, they don't deal with death often. In the loop, no one ever died, they lived in a fountain of youth where eternal life was guaranteed and expected. Something that had to be endured, a burden of sorts. Deaths, if there were any, were big and spectacular and unexpected.

But his death was really quite simple. At least that's what the wight said.

"This is really quite simple." The wight said pleasantly. "I need the brat that can see my friends."

Emma felt Jacob stiffen beside her and she grabbed his hand, squeezing it desperately, trying to keep him next to her.

The wight surveyed the silent children calmly. "No answer?" He said calmly. "You must need the proper motivation."

Emma realized too late what that meant. Behind them, one of the lower ranking soldiers had crept up behind them and had snatched Olive away from Fiona, tossing her to the commander and pointing his gun at a murderous Bronwyn with a sneer.

"Thank you Kingsley." The commander said with a greasy smile. "I do believe that you've earned your next meal." Kingsley smiled a crooked smile and handed a gun to the commander who then proceeded to hold it to Olive's temple. Olive, who had been very quiet until now, squeaked and tried to get away.

Almost in the same moment, Jacob stepped forward, ripping his hand out of Emma's.

Bronwyn growled. "No." She snarled, still clutching a stomach wound. The others were protesting too, but Emma couldn't hear them. All she could focus on was how vulnerable he looked, standing between the ragged semi circle of peculiars and the neat, orderly row of wights. All eyes were on him.

Slowly, cautiously, Jacob reached out his hand, holding it out like bait. Emma held her breath. The tension was expanding like a balloon. Soon it would pop and everything would hit the fan.

With a casual grin, the wight tossed the little girl towards Jacob.

"How lucky for your friend that you're the one we need." The wight grinned, showing coffee brown teeth.

Jacob quickly passed Olive to Emma, who passed her to a sobbing Bronwyn then grabbed his hand from behind, trying to get him to stay on her side of the circle. He squeezed her hand back, but never took his eyes off of the wight.

"Thank you for cooperating." The wight said smoothly, as if Jacob had just offered him a coffee. "You have something we want."

"My soul?" Jacob's voice quivered.

The wight shook his head. "Consuming a peculiar soul gives the hollow who eats it a piece of the scum from which it came. Your sight would make them-" He chuckled darkly. "Pardon me. I meant, us, quite blind."

Then in a quick motion that ended absolutely everything Emma had lived for the past couple weeks, the wight pressed the trigger. It wasn't like in books where the hero falls in slow motion in a graceful arc. There was a flash of light and a bang and then Jacob fell. He had been standing on a podium of leadership, slowly gaining the trust and respect he deserved from his friends. But the wights had come in like an ugly gust of wind and had knocked the poor boy off his perch.

And down Jacob went.

She was dimly aware of half catching him as he slid down to the floor, his eyes staring at nothing, a thin stream of blood dripping out of his mouth. She was dimly aware of the rest of the children causing quite a ruckus and the two little girls crying while the two brothers screamed. She was dimly aware of the wights eventually falling underneath the abundance of tiny fists.

Emma was only dimly aware of a lot of things for a while.

Back to death among the peculiarity, Victor was the only exception, but his death had been expected. He had become a ghost, depressed and sad, flitting through life monotonously. Bronwyn had cried when his body showed up, but the older children exchanged looks over his corpse and Enoch had refused to bring him back at first. "'E's better off where 'e is." He had muttered retreating almost immediately to the cellar.

So off Victor went into his old bedroom.

But Jacob. Jacob was different then Victor.

The part that made Jacob's death so sad, was how he lived. Jacob was brilliant and somewhat happy, making an quite an impression. Jacob had everything to lose and everything to live for.

The extraordinary boy with an ordinary death.

How sad.

At least it had been quick.

When Emma came out of her stupor, she was clutching Jacob's jacket, looking up at the dank ceiling, surrounded by the rest of her friends. She immediately wished that she hadn't woken up.

"What do we do now?" Claire whimpered, rubbing her face on Bronwyn's jacket.

Emma clenched her fists, staring off down the tunnel. There were more out there. More to kill. More to stop. More to hurt.

"We can't just leave him here." Bronwyn decided and the others nodded, murmuring their agreement.

Emma glared. "What can we do?" She croaked, ignoring the several looks of pity she received.

"We can give him a right proper send off." Enoch suggested. "A peculiar send off."

Peculiar customs decreed that a corpse was to be returned to the place where they were most known for being, perfectly preserved in a homage to their life as a living miracle. Unfortunately, none of them had known Jacob long enough to know that place was, other then beside his friends. Florida also wasn't an option. From Emma's view of him, Florida hadn't been a good life for Jacob and he had always refused to talk about it.

"How about we take him to a park?" Hugh suggested, after a shared look with Fiona. Surprisingly Emma like the idea and nodded when everyone turned to look for her opinion.

So Hugh and Milliard each took an arm and carefully started carrying Jacob along the tunnel.

Emma stood there, on that bloodstained floor and watched, oddly detached as the two boys went about five feet, stopped and turned back.

"What?" She almost growled, wishing that they would stop torturing her and just let her grieve in peace.

"Ladies first." Millard's quiet voice floated through the tunnel.

Everyone was silent, waiting for her reaction yet again.

Emma swallowed. "Well... Alright."

She carefully picked her way towards the front, refusing to look at the slumped figure behind her. She wouldn't think about that now.

After she began walking, Hugh and Millard began shuffling along. Jacob had been a thin stick of a boy and their work wasn't hard, mostly just melancholy.

Slowly, the rest of the children followed. Enoch and Horace carrying the few possessions they had managed to hold on to, Melina and the boys following with Bronwyn and Fiona holding the two younger girls. An odd funeral precession, an almost dozen crying children.

No one cared about the dead wights deep in the recesses of the old tunnel.

When they finally left the subway tunnels it was dark and present day London was relatively quiet. Even as they hummed a funeral march, they couldn't help but look around in war at the wonderful sights, the fluorescent windows and high speed cars. It was a tale from a storybook and Emma would have given anything to be back home in the old loop where life was an endless dull chore.

They soon reached a large park, with miles of stretching paths and endless greenery, all quiet underneath the midnight moon. Wordlessly, the shadowy group of children fled to the trees, where a quiet garden grew.

They searched for just the right spot, making sure it was perfect.

It was underneath a just bloomed tree, a tree that looked like snow with deep scarlet carnations growing around the roots, a beautiful resting place.

Fiona looked at Emma and she realized what the problem was. If Fiona used her powers, then the wights and hollows would know where they were. But still...

Emma pursed her lips. "Power sensing be damned. Go ahead Fi."

Fiona nodded and brushing her tangled hair behind her ears, she stretched out her hand, gently coaxing the roots into shifting the earth aside. It was a dry, crumbling sound, but it got the work done and soon there was a nice hole.

From what seemed like a long distance away, there was a terrible shriek and Emma's stomach fell. What had she been thinking? There was no Jacob to kill the hollows for them now. They were completely on their own, the way children should never, never be.

More tears ran down Emma's cheeks and she wiped them on her bedraggled coat sleeve determinedly, looking pointedly up at the stars while Millard and Hugh carefully lay Jacob to rest.

"Say the nice things quick now." Bronwyn whispered as Fiona shifted the earth back into place.

"No time!" Melina hissed, yanking the boys toward her. "They're coming!"

And indeed they were. Men were shouting and dogs were barking and surely it was quite possible that they wouldn't be separated from Jacob for long.

"Wait!" Emma called, as the tendrils of brown curled around Jacob's face.

"Emma!" More then few people yelled, but she had to, she just had to. She wasn't good at grieving because she wasn't used to dying but she just had to this one last thing.

So she leaned down and pressed one last kiss on Jacob's forehead, ignoring the bullet hole, the taste of blood, his empty brown eyes, his bloodstained blonde hair.

This was what grieving was about, Emma decided as she and the others ran off into the night and their fate. Focusing on the good of the person. Maybe they were numb and unfeeling, but their friend had been shot and buried in an unmarked grave without any words said about him or any rights spoken and she didn't know what she was going to do about his parents. So, she remembered the last good thing he had said to her.

He had smiled, his big 'happy' smile, and had hugged everyone in their group, even when they were all prisoners, he was somewhat joyful.

"Emma Bloom." He had said with his strange drawl, eyes twinkling. "I'm so glad I stayed."

Oh Jacob.

**Although rather cold about the whole thing, I assume that peculiar children really didn't have much experience with death and that's why they would be sort of aloof about the whole thing. Besides, it's from Emma's point of view and she would be in shock about the whole thing I suppose. Anyways, I've been writing this thing for MONTHS. And it's done! WHOO! Oh wait...I killed off a main character...I mean...AWWWW.**


End file.
